Dancing With Daedra
by Razzella
Summary: A series of drabbles dedicated to the Daedric Princes. It contains a mixture of different time frames - some being modern, and some not.
1. Quagmire

Title: **Quagmire**

Language: English

Rated: K+

Genre: Horror / Tragedy

Published: 8 - 22 - 2014

* * *

_Vaermina © Bethesda Game Studios_

_Cassandra © Razzella_

* * *

"And… you can't remember these dreams?"

I could practically _feel _the judgment seeping into my pores as she spoke; nervously I tugged at my jacket sleeve. It wasn't that I didn't remember as much as I didn't _want_ to remember; I didn't understand why they thought it was so important I talk about them. They were grotesque and disturbing at best; traumatizing and disgusting at worst. They generally would fade away the longer I was awake, but apparently I was still a little off, with the way my mother would pester me about "what was wrong".

"No." I was becoming a liar too, it seemed. Blue met green before she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully; sighing she shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the stove. I was taken aback at her easy surrender, though at the time I thought little of it.

"Alright; if you want to talk you know I'm here." I nodded my head at her quiet surrender; continuing my packing. Honestly, I was dreading returning to the college. I was able to afford my own little house, but as time progressed it was seeming like more and more of a bad idea. My nightmares were all-encompassing and to say it wasn't mildly disorienting would be a lie.

"I love you, momma." I said softly as I walked back into the kitchen; giving her a tight embrace.

"You're leaving already? You still have a few hours – "

" – I know, but I want to get home and wash my sheets and stuff before school starts back – and I need to do some grocery shopping." I interrupted, watching her face redden with agitation at my rudeness. Finally returning my embrace, I gave her a smile before grabbing my bags and dragging it out to my car.

"You're sure you don't even want to stay 'til lunch?" She called from the doorframe as I loaded my bag.

"Nah, I'll grab some Taco Bell or something." With that she just rolled her eyes; waving goodbye as she returned to the house. I slumped as I finally dove into my car and drove away from my family home; unknowing that it was the last time I would speak to my mother.

* * *

I don't know for certain if it would have made a difference, but I think I would have held her a little longer – talked to her a little more. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a surprise to find I never made it back to school that day, three days later when she hasn't heard a word from me. Maybe things would have been different.

That maybe haunts me even now.

I didn't notice the other car coming. That sounds ridiculous because _how do you not see it _but it's true, I never saw it. I didn't see them swerve into the wrong lane until the last minute, where I tried to miss and ended up being spun on ice into oncoming traffic. Death wasn't as awful as I thought it would be; one second I was there and panicking and praying – and then I wasn't. There wasn't a "light at the end" or anything else so dramatic and haunting. It just stopped. It went black. Dark. Cold. There was nothing.

* * *

And then there was _everything._

I gasped awake; sucking in air as if I hadn't breathed for years – and for all I knew that was the case. But it was light out and it was freezing and when I sat up everyone was dressed in black. I could hear crying, and for some reason that ticked something off in my brain. There was something haunting and familiar and as I stood and dusted myself off I realized I was at a funeral.

Dream behavior never made much sense to me to begin with, but as I approached the casket I was even more disoriented than before. I stared at my face with a shocking calm; glancing around I found my mother sitting in the front. Having located the horrible sound of crying, I turned back to my body – only to stumble backwards in alarm as the eyeless carcass stared at me. Climbing out of the casket after me, I felt a scream building as my body bent in inhuman ways; twisting and elongating into something horrific.

So I ran.

* * *

The lightning stuck.

* * *

"I just don't understand why she thinks she's Gods gift to earth. God, she's so ungrateful – where did I go wrong, Dawn?" My mother. Somehow I knew she was talking about me, even though she made to reference to it at all. Running into the living room – and slightly disoriented that I was no longer in a church but rather in my apartment on campus – I stared at her.

"She's been such a brat since she started college – I guess becoming a "doctor" makes her too good for her family anymore. I mean, she only comes to visit twice a year; she lives _literally _an hour away!" I tried to think back to my behavior in the past few months, but it just… _wouldn't come. _Feeling tears swell in my eyes, I turned away from the scene for a moment to rub away my cloudy vision.

Turning back I saw she was still talking – angry, angry rambling from the animated motions she was making – but couldn't hear her. I approached slowly, reaching out to touch her on some instinct that I couldn't control; she turned to me with wide, frightened eyes. My hand connected with her shoulder and she screamed – a blood curdling scream – and I flinched away; attempting to draw my hand back. To my horror, it would not obey; her screams continued as her body began to melt away in the most disgusting of ways. Tears leaked from my eyes as her own rolled from their sockets, and her body began liquefying.

"Why?" Her voice had become a whisper.

* * *

The lightning struck – over, and over, and over, and _over _it struck.

* * *

"No more." I sobbed after what seemed like hours – collapsing in front of another monstrous humanoid form. This time it was of my little sister, who had drowned only a year prior to my own demise. The small body had been disfigured to the point I could no longer recognize the small blond but by the color of her hair; that voice that looked so wrong with this body.

"Please, God, no more." I begged softly; my voice barely audible to my own ears as another giggle escaped the beast that stood before me.

* * *

The lightning struck.

* * *

I sat, collapsed on the floor; waiting patiently for my next torment. Was this Hell? After all of my praying and worship and devotion – did I end up in Hell? What did I do wrong? What happened?

"So fragile." I glanced up from the floor, exhausted and miserable and confused; really just wanting to stop existing entirely. I flinched away when my face was inches from another creature; scrambling backwards I heard laughter – a shift from feminine to male so rapidly I wasn't sure I was hearing it – and stared at the male. I racked my brain, feeling almost certain I had heard – _seen _– a female before my panic.

"You seemed so interesting before; I wonder what happened…?" I furrowed my brow – waiting for the trick. The change was coming, and I knew something horrific was bound to occur at any moment. I just had to wait for it a little longer.

"Hm. I don't much like you're surrender," He continued, and I couldn't help but notice his eyes were a beautiful shade of gold as his head cocked to one side. "It wasn't as interesting as I had thought it would be. Maybe I finally broke you?" He trailed off at the end, seemingly speaking more to himself than me as he brushed his dark hair from his face.

He snapped his fingers and the lightning struck again, though rather than something horrific I was surprised to find something beautiful. Strange, vibrant colors scattered the area around me and I looked up at the male with some awe – mostly distrust – only to see his grin pull into a smirk.

The area surrounding me was like something from the movies – colorful trees and waterfalls and mountains. It was beautiful and a great relief on my nerves to find it was perfectly normal.

"There you are." He murmured as I shifted onto my feet; looking around warily. "I like your life more than your death." So casual – I felt my eyes narrow in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"Hmm… I supposed I'll just leave you here then. Try to behave yourself; I'll be watching." I felt my eyes widen again as he turned on his heel; his robes becoming apparent. Familiar. So familiar. He glanced over his shoulder as I stumbled after him, grinning menacingly at me.

"Goodbye, Cassandra." He spoke as his form faded slowly from the young man into an older woman – slowly growing more and more transparent until he wasn't there at all.

It was then I noticed the deafening silence; feeling the tears swell again I attempted to rub them away with my jacket sleeve.

"Why?" I whispered, feeling the word leave my body – only to be swallowed up by the silence. No noise would travel here; a sudden sense of bitter resignation came over me as I began walking in a random direction.

"_Welcome to Quagmire."_

* * *

"_After a true, remembered encounter with the Daedric Lord, her followers often claim that nothing on Nirn holds any fear for them, as nothing can possibly be as frightening as being in Vaermina's presence."_


	2. The Shivering Isles

This would be the prequel to my oneshot **Blush**. It just tells the story of how Terentia met and saved Sheogorath many years before the start of **Blush**.

I hope you guys enjoy!

- Razzella

* * *

Title: **The Shivering Isles****  
**

Language: English

Rated: K+

Genre: Adventure / Romance

Published: 11 - 20 - 2014

* * *

_Sheogorath © Bethesda Game Studios_

_Terentia © Razzella_

* * *

I was young and green – approximately fifteen years old, in fact – when I first met the Emperor. I was locked in one of his cells and he had told me some garbage about lighting the dragon fires and saving the world. Honestly? I was certain he was mad at the time, but he somehow coaxed me into believing him.

Maybe it was because I wanted to be something more.

I was too young to realize exactly _what _he had thrust upon me, but even if I had realized I don't think I would have changed a thing. It was a wonderful adventure and my only regret is that I never kissed that old man's son when I had the chance. Truly, Martin had been a wonderful man, and an even better friend; I missed him for about ten years before the memories faded and I was forced to move on to another lifestyle than simply being the hero by the bite of a man I killed immediately thereafter.

And oh, vampirism was such a fickle thing to be affected with.

* * *

It was just after Martin sacrificed himself that I finally had time for the door.

If I thought defeating Mehrunes Dagon was anything in comparison to stepping into the Shivering Isles, I would hope it was because I was dead and that behemoth of a monster was tormenting me. Oh, no, the Isles immediately felt like home to me; I somehow knew it even after the butterflies cleared and I was faced with the gorgeous sky of Passwall. If anyone though Tamriels skies were beautiful, the Isles skies were _indescribable. _

I actually just sat there at that stone desk for a long while admiring it.

* * *

Defeating the bloody Gatekeeper was more than I wanted to take on. I actually left in a fit of rage for a while, but after seeing Tamriel again it just didn't feel like home anymore. I waltzed around there for a month or so before the dull coloring and annoying people got the better of me and I fled back into the Fringe.

The Fringe of Madness.

I killed the Gatekeeper for access to the rest of the Shivering Isles; walking through the doors of Mania was the most breath-taking experience I had ever had. Another glimpse at the fantastical night sky made me feel more assured in my decision as I laughed aloud at the giant – humongous – mushrooms scattering the realm. I made it my goal to stand atop of one of them even as I followed the road to New Sheoth; fighting off the fascinating creatures that deemed me a threat was simply amazing.

New Sheoth was equally fascinating when I arrived there; it was split in two – just as the Madgod himself was. Of course, meeting Sheogorath was something that took my breath away almost immediately; I feel as though he may have seen my curiosity from the way he grinned at me.

I found myself watching him more often than not after our initial encounter. His gibberish and absolute insanity did strange things to me that I couldn't ever hope to really explain. It was different and new and I could feel myself wishing I had a beating heart to splutter for the man – well, daedra.

One can imagine how intensely jealous I was when I met the woman whose affections he had humored – though it also offered me a certain amount of reassurance that maybe I did actually have a chance to gain his attention. I _needed _to get his attention; the indescribable ache in my chest for him was something I was afraid to deal with but I was certain if I just could have his attention for an hour it would stop.

I needed him.

So, I became his Duchess of Mania; it wasn't much different from what I'd been doing in the first place except I was now in charge of the artists and otherwise color-filled members of the Isles officially. He seemed pleased with me, and that made the murder of a man I found endearing worth it – for just five minutes, I had his undivided attention and he was pleased.

Oh, it was perfect.

* * *

I did every task required and killed everyone who stood in the way. I did everything right. So why? – why wouldn't he humor my affections? He was growing more and more coherent – and I had formerly assured myself it was just me growing to understand him, but Haskill quickly killed that idea when he informed me of exactly how the Greymarch worked. I found myself cursing the Madgods true form more and more often, even as I was faced with the idea of becoming the Madgod myself or fleeing the Isles until it was all over.

My choice was rather obvious.

* * *

Jyggalag was a continuous threat bearing down on me and testing my skills constantly. I did everything I knew to do to try to defeat him for good – every choice and step I took was to further destroy the man who threatened Sheogorath's realm. I was trying my best to eliminate the threat but no matter what I did or what tricks I deployed the Greymarch continued and I was left seething in rage with every one of his knights I had to take down.

It was infuriating to watch them drain the color from a place I found so hypnotically beautiful; with each defeat I handed them, they threw two more at me and it was an impossible task for one woman. I think Sheogorath began realizing as much, as he tended to keep me occupied within the walls of New Sheoth; I wouldn't delude myself into thinking it was out of concern.

I had failed him and we both knew it; he needed someone better than a girl barely over twenty and an attitude problem. My willingness to weep at the idea that I couldn't be better for him – that I couldn't be enough to end this damnable Greymarch for him was enough to keep me docile in his presence.

* * *

I met his gaze one afternoon – the evening before his own demise, in fact – and it was probably the worst mistake I ever made. His cat-like eyes were piercing even as I quickly shifted my own gaze elsewhere and I heard him laugh.

"Oh, foolish mortal," He purred and I swear I might've blushed at the sound if I had the ability to do so.

"Did ya' think I never noticed?"

* * *

I couldn't watch him vanish.

I had completed the final task he had assigned me, and even as I stood there watching the madness I found so enchanting drain from his eyes I knew what I had to do. His stupid staff needed to be repaired and then maybe – just maybe – I could save him. I could save his madness that I had found such a strong attraction to.

So I did something stupid; after I managed to get close enough the day he was to turn I sank my fangs into his throat. Of course, the shock – or perhaps that was betrayal I saw in his golden eyes – was enough to make him rage and I was wise enough to flee – despite how ungracefully it may have been – with his blood in my mouth. Somehow I managed not to get caught and set off on my mission to save the Madgod.

And silently prayed to the same Madgod that he would forgive me when it was all said and done.

* * *

I shot Jyggalag with a bolt of bloody magic from Shegorath's staff and that seemed to do the trick. It wasn't the outcome I had expected – as the massive form that was Jyggalag was still roaring with rage – but I had Sheogorath separated from Jyggalag and even as the giant daedra back-handed me into the brick along the outskirts of New Sheoth Palace I found myself smiling.

I was bloody and beaten and possibly dying now that the sun was out, but he was alive and as long as he survived that was all that really mattered to me. I was pleased when the daedra appeared just in my line of vision – forming a barrier between myself and Jyggalag – though I couldn't hear a word he was saying.

The next thing I knew, Jyggalag was gone and I was staring up into those beautiful eyes as the Madgod leaned over me; the staff I used to save him in his hands.

"Aren't you a bright one," He commented quietly with a wicked grin on his face; I like to think there was some admiration in his voice. "Foolish Terentia."

I blacked out.

* * *

He made me his Champion – but it wasn't enough.

My chest still ached for the man, and even though he had informed me once before he knew of my attraction he had not acted on it; so I took the hint. It wasn't as though I didn't understand – mortals and daedra were not compatible in almost any way, and it was indeed foolish of me to humor the feelings I harbored for him.

The madness was back in his gaze and I found myself enjoying it just a little longer – holding on to the breathlessness just a little tighter – before it was time.

I think he knew, looking back on it. He knew very well I would be taking my leave of the Shivering Isles to return to the realm I was raised in; even as I approached him to inform him of as much, I could see the calculating expression on his face.

"I-I'm leaving, my Lord." I cursed myself for the stutter internally, but his thoughtful look did not waver as he gazed at me.

"Ye' sure ya' wanna do that?" Sheogoraths voice was quiet – soothing, almost – and I felt the ache building again.

"Yes," I responded after a long moment, swallowing hard as he stood. He looked rather intimidating as he stood over me; cocking his head to one side. I resisted the urge to make fists at my side as fight or flight began picking at my mind. Of course, all thoughts of running from the daedra was cut short when his lips touched mine.

It felt like fire.

I made the mistake of letting out a startled chirp and he deepened the kiss dramatically; wrapping his arms around my waist as my hands found their way into his hair. I could hear a soft mewling sound come from my throat even as I tried desperately to contain it, and his dark chuckle against my lips earned an appreciative shiver.

He pulled away with a devious grin and gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You can go free, my Champion – but your soul is mine."

"My soul is yours, my Liege."

* * *

It caused me physical pain to leave the Shivering Isles; I don't think I've ever felt such an ache before in my life. I left behind my home – the place that made me comfortable and managed to contain some semblance of normalcy for me. I eyed the gate sadly from my place on the edge of Bravil; feeling the sting of tears as it closed – and then vanished.

"_My soul is yours, my Liege."_

A small smile formed on my lips as I turned away – prepared to begin my life anew on Tamriel once again.

"_My soul is yours."_

* * *

_"Arrival to the Shivering Isles is solely at the discretion of Lord Sheogorath, Prince of Madness."_


End file.
